


The Gospel Truth

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something happened on that night but neither are completely sure what, that is until the memories start coming back. Then neither are really sure if they're willing to address it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was one of those moments that Chuck _really_ hated his dreams. Like the time Sam slept with Madison and the grief that followed, not to mention the whole Ruby situation. Or Dean's outrageously long list of conquests that Chuck had basically lived through first hand. It was one thing to have wet dreams, Chuck didn't _mind_ wet dreams, but when those particular dreams involved watching better looking men having sex with drop dead gorgeous girls... it really wasn't fair. If Chuck wanted to watch porn then he would watch porn, some things were just too much.

Which was why, when he woke in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and half hard, he was _not_ amused. Especially as the images came trickling back to the front of his mind. Chuck's first instinct was to get very, _very_ drunk, which he did, fingers curling around the whiskey bottle and bringing it to his lips. It was an action as familiar as breathing for Chuck. Then he had to face the facts. He'd been having these dreams for awhile now, maybe three or four days, and they weren't going _away_. No amount of whiskey seemed to shake them off.

On most occasions Chuck would write down his dreams, that was the sure fire way to make sure they disappeared for good. But, as he had learned, writing them down made them come true. This one wasn't exactly one Chuck was sure was supposed to come true. But that logic didn't make sense to him, even if his mind wasn't dulled with alcohol. Chuck didn't dream about slash fiction, he dreamed about the real stuff. The facts. The fucking Winchester _Gospel_. Somehow he didn't think _this_ was something meant to be in any sort of gospel, despite how modern and... unique it was.

Chuck couldn't go through another night with these dreams though. They were really fucking him up and creeping him out and Chuck needed some sort of relief. So he carried his bottle of whiskey and blanket over to the computer and sat, staring at the blank document for a long time. He considered going to the type writer instead; he could just type up the pages and throw them in the fire, that might work. Only typing the pages there would make them really _real_ and that thought alone freaked him out even more. So the computer it was. He would type it all out then throw it out and it would be like nothing ever happened. Chuck could go back to his other dreams, that didn't involve any sort of sex at _all_ , and Sam and Dean would be none the wiser.

The thing was, Chuck had never written porn before and he was definitely not a romance novelist. He wasn't even a very good novelist. He was just the subject to some angelic joke, blessed - cursed - with these dreams that he had thought had been his imagination. Whatever Chuck did in a past life, it had to have been pretty damn shitty.

It seemed the most logical that this sort of... _situation_... wouldn't have happened unless both boys were very, very drunk. More drunk then Chuck had ever been. In his dream they had just returned from a hunt and they were pumped with adrenaline and Dean pulled out a bottle of Jack. So he started with that. Jack, and then tequila, a six pack of beer shared, whiskey? Seemed like enough to make sure they were really very drunk. Not that Chuck thought this would be coming true because... it just _couldn't_. Which was why he would be deleting it.

Chuck wrote the facts like he'd seen in the dream, eyes squinting as if that might make the words go away. It was quick and sloppy and rough. Sam probably would have been a little sore the morning after. Chuck _cringed_. God those boys would kill him if they ever knew something like this existed. But it was good, which was at least something. And Chuck's fingers almost subconsciously typed things like, _the best either had ever had_ and _no one would ever compare to Sam's taste_. Chuck cringed again. Dean would probably blow his head off with a sawed off shot gun or something if he ever read _that_.

The words stopped flowing after _they woke in the morning, both sick with hang overs, the memory of the night washed away with the alcohol churning in their stomachs and Sam only half wondered why he was naked in bed with brother as he rolled over to grab the ringing cell phone on the night stand._ Chuck didn't read over what he wrote, that would have been beyond a level of weird. He saved the document as _DO NOT TOUCH_ and stored it away in a hidden file. In the morning he'd decide what to do with it.

Now though he stumbled back to the couch and passed out.

When Chuck woke the sun was beaming in his eyes and he groaned loudly, trying to roll away from it. Things trickled back too easily, he hadn't gotten drunk enough, and Chuck sighed. Giving up on sleep, he stumbled toward the kitchen and went about fixing up the coffee machine. Once the hot liquid was brewing his eyes strayed to his cell phone on the counter. It probably wouldn't hurt to give Sam a call, get some idea if anything was going on. And then he'd delete that document like he should have done last night. At least he hadn't had any more dreams.

Sighing softly, Chuck curled his fingers around the phone and punched through until Sam's number came up. Another moment of hesitation then he was pressing the device to his ear and listening to the rings.

-=-=-=-

Sam rolled towards the sound of the phone without opening his eyes which was pretty much a bad idea because his stomach did a massive flop and he sensed impending intestinal doom of epic proportion. Shaking his head and cracking one eye open Sam heard the obnoxious ring tone again and wondered who the hell was plastered up against his side. Naked. Dean. Oh. Groaning Sam flailed his hand about and grabbed his phone. His lifted it to his ear, "Hello?" heard nothing, dropped the phone and squinted at it to push the connect button. "'Lo?"

Chuck swallowed and turned to his coffee pot and mug. Sam sounded like shit. Maybe he was sick. Probably sick. "Uh, hey. Hey Sam. It's me. Chuck. How's it going?" If Chuck sounded a little overly casual it was because he was still early and he hadn't had coffee. It had _nothing_ to do with the fact that he'd just written about Sam having sex with his _brother_ or anything. Cause Chuck basically didn't do that. Maybe he dreamed that too.

"Chuck?" Sam's throat was sore and he scrubbed his hand over his face trying to wake up enough to get his brain to work. "Fuck... what the hell... time is it?" Sam squinted in the light coming through the window, "ooooh my head..." He flopped back down on the pillow.

"Your... head? Ow shit," Chuck jerked as scalding hot coffee poured over the rim of the mug and splashed down off the counter and onto his foot. "Jesus Christ sorry, coffee... incident. Uh, it's... it's pretty early. Sorry. I just... Sam? Your head? Why does your head hurt?" Chuck's heart was racing hard and painful against his chest and he set the coffee pot too hard down into the sink.

Beside Sam on the bed, Dean grunted and flopped over, slapping a hand down hard on Sam's chest. "Fuck off," he grunted and buried his head into the pillow.

Sam exhaled sharply, "Fuck Dean...what the hell...?" Sam's eyes opened and he turned to look at his brother then turned quickly back to look at the ceiling. Realization tugged at Sam's features. _Oh my God_. "Chuck... now's not a good... Jesus _Christ_." Sam sat up quickly, groaned and got so dizzy he thought he was going to pass out. Letting himself fall backwards he landed pretty much _across_ Dean's hips. The breath whooshed out of his body and he fumbled the phone, losing it somewhere in the sheets.

"Dean...get the _fuck_ up and help me find the phone," Sam rolled over getting a face full of his brother's bare stomach.

"Sam?" Chuck called into the phone, pulling it back as static rustled across the line. Dean's voice had been _way_ to close to the phone and... _oh fuck_. Chuck was dead. Beyond dead. "Sam?" He yelled louder into the phone.

Dean was not at all pleased with the ringing in his head or the fact that his brother was attempting to wrestle him at the butt fuck crack of dawn. "Fuck Sam get the fuck away from me," he growled angrily, not opening his eyes as he shoved at his brother. "What are you doin'? Leave me alone... _Jesus Christ_ my head," Dean slammed a hand up against his head and swayed slightly as he tried to sit up to shove his brother off his bed. His eyes peeled open a fraction of an inch and landed on Sam's bare hip bone. "What the fuck dude why are you _naked_ and in my bed?"

" _My_ bed, Dean. We're in _my_ bed." Sam dove back under the covers looking for the phone and emerged a few seconds later with it pressed against his ear. "Chuck? Chuck?" Sam punched at Dean's arm and tried to shove him off the bed.

Dean rolled less then gracefully off the mattress, face planting onto the carpet and groaning loudly. "Gonna fuckin' kill you," he mumbled into the carpet. "Soon as my head stops spinning."

Chuck blew out a long, shaky puff of air and tried to keep his voice steady. He'd heard a good majority of their bickering, catching the important words like _naked_ and _bed_. Yup, there was no doubt; Chuck was officially a dead man. Now it was a matter of what to do with this. "Uh... Sam? Are... are you and Dean far away? Could you maybe... come here? It's... it's kind of important." Chuck didn't know _why_ he was inviting his soon to be murderers to his house, to explain to them why they should kill him, but Chuck held a certain sympathy for the boys and after the things that happened, they deserved and explanation. Though hopefully they'd just never remember and he'd make up some BS when they showed up.

"Yeah..." Sam flopped back on the bed again, "I gotta go I think Ima be sick." Sam stabbed at the phone with his finger and threw it in the general direction of the opposite bed. "Dean? What did you do to me? Fuck... I... my stomach... and my a..." Sam sat bolt upright, regretted it instantly and fell sideways onto his face. "Dean," he mumbled into the quilt, "are you dead?"

"Possibly," Dean considered the pain flaring and pulsing in his brain and groaned. "Fuck. Yes. I am dead. What the _fuck_ happened last night?" Dean shoved around the pain, trying to find some answer but nothing was making sense. Whatever it was Dean had a really good hunch that it was bad. Nothing good hurt this much. Dean wanted to move off the carpet but one slight push up from his body and his stomach churned unpleasantly. Plus his whole front side was dragging along slightly stiff carpet and that just felt _gross_. "Why... naked?"

" _Why_ does my _ass_ ache?" Sam was starting to feel a little frantic about the entire situation. "What did you _do_ to me?" He dragged in the general direction of his brother's voice. "Dean?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Dean groaned and finally managed to push himself up off the floor. The moment he did he regretted it and just barely made it to the bathroom before he heaved up whatever it was making them so sick. Dean wondered if they got food poisoning. Then the stale taste of alcohol exploded in his mouth and he groaned, crawling over to the sink. It took a good ten minutes to stumble back to the bedroom and he snagged his boxers from the floor, fumbling to get them on before dropping onto his bed with a heavy sigh. "I think... we drank. A lot."

"I'll say..." Sam was still hanging half on half off the bed and trying not to throw up. He hated throwing up. "I haven't been this hung over since I got hammered with Shawn Wilson in tenth grade and tried to lick his cat." Actually, that's pretty much what Sam's mouth felt like... he groaned again. "You okay?"

Dean groaned and rolled on the bed, lifting his eyes to squint at the table. The surface was lined with bottles, all empty, a lethal combination. "Fuck Sam, why did we drink so much?" He rubbed his fingers into his head and shifted back onto the pillow. "Sleep. We gotta sleep this off... how you? Try throwin' up, I know it sucks but I feel just a little better. Pretty sure I threw up straight liquor," Dean mumbled off, slipping under the blanket and tugging it high up his body. His eyeballs felt like they were pulsing against the thin lid covering them and Dean didn't think he had _ever_ been this drunk.

"I don't want to throw up," Sam rolled enough to see Dean through his one open eye. "I want to die of alcohol poisoning in my sleep." He coughed and sputtered for a bit, then launched up off the bed and bolted to the bathroom. His stomach flopped once more and he threw up just as he made it to his knees in front of the toilet. He lay there panting, face pressed against the cool porcelain of the tank. "Oh... God..." He was beginning to think he really might die.

For a moment Dean considered letting Sam get it out of his system and he could just go back to sleep. But guilt tugged at him, as if maybe he _was_ responsible for this random crazy drinking binge they went on. So he pushed himself out of bed and bent down, snatching up Sam's boxers as he stumbled to the bathroom. Why they were naked was beyond him. Must have been some crazy drunk ass idea and Dean was probably lucky that he didn't remember. "Here," he said softly as he stepped into the bathroom, laying the boxers over Sam's thighs before turning to the sink and flipping on the faucet.

A moment later he had a rag thoroughly soaked with cool water and he squeezed out the remaining liquid before turning and pressing the rag into Sam's forehead. "Hold that," he mumbled, turning back to the sink to fill up the glass there with water. That was about all the energy Dean had left so he drained the glass, refilled it, and dropped to a sitting position beside Sam on the bathroom floor. "Drink," he offered and shook his head slowly. "Damn dude... we suck."

Sam's arm swung out blindly for the glass, "'kay... thanks..." The water was nice, felt cool on his ragged throat. He rubbed the cloth down over his eyes, head slowly falling to the side. "God, that feels good. Oh! I nearly forgot, Chuck... he says he needs to see us. We gotta head up there." He huffed, "when we can actually move." Sam grimaced as he stretched one leg out in front of the toilet.

"That's pretty much the last thing we need... whatever Chuck needs us for," Dean groaned and pushed himself slowly up off the floor. "Let's go back to sleep. Get this out of our systems," he rolled his shoulders and leaned against the wall for a minute before reaching out to curl his fingers around Sam's arm. The minute his palm laid flat against muscle, something sharp and pleasant shot through his system. By instinct he recoiled, stepping back again into the wall and blinking his eyes a few time in confusion. _What the fuck_? "Uh... bed..." he mumbled and turned on the wall to face the door.

Rubbing at the tingling patch of skin on his arm where Dean's fingers had just been Sam shifted and half crawled about two feet closer to the door. "Dean..." he moaned, "gimme a hand?" He held up his hand and blinked sleepily.

Dean swallowed and nodded. Maybe he was still slightly drunk. "Sure, c'mon," he mumbled and reached out for Sam's hand, tugging him up off the ground. Sam swayed on his feet and Dean instinctively reached out to lay his hand over Sam's arm, holding him steady. "Can you make it?" He asked with a smirk, stepping in to steady himself in case Sam actually went down.

Slinging an arm over his brother's shoulder Sam muttered, "not okay." He blinked a few times shaking his head, groaned and leaned hard into Dean's body. He half realized that he was _holding_ his boxers instead of _wearing_ them, but found it hard to care. The smooth glide of his chest against Dean's sent a little shudder through his body, _strangely familiar_ but Sam shook it off and struggled to get his balance.

"You're tellin' me," Dean grumbled and guided them out to the main room, He didn't know what to make of the stirring up of heat in his system and finally decided to shrug it off and blame it being far too fucked up for his own good. He helped Sam slide down onto his bed, swaying forward and coming dangerously close to falling over his brother. Coughing slightly, Dean slid back and rubbed at his eyes, "Sleep."

"Fuck... yeah... hopefully I'll die...." Sam's fingers were still curled around Dean's arm, the one solid, non-wobbly, non-spinny thing in the room. Lips twitching into a half smile Sam started to drift back to sleep as his thumb brushed across Dean's skin.

Dean thought about pointing out that Sam was still holding his arm but it seemed to be making his brother feel better and Dean wasn't necessarily _complaining_ about it so he just sighed, rested one knee on the mattress and crawled over his brother. He just needed to sleep, they'd both be better later on today once the alcohol was out of their systems. It bugged Dean that he couldn't remember what had led up to them drinking so much but he'd dwell on it later. "Sam," he muttered and tugged on his arm until it was free from Sam's hand and flopping across Sam's chest.

-=-=-=-

Chuck woke up with a scream, sitting up so fast the coffee and whiskey in his belly threatened to come tumbling out before he could even inhale. His eyes fluttered a few times as he tried to shake off the image in his mind. _Kissing_. Now he was dreaming about kissing. Apparently deleting the document hadn't worked. Of course he had saved a copy of a copy and hidden it in a maze of folders but apparently the fates or whatever controlled this thing didn't care how much you hid it. There was really just no way Chuck was going to be able to handle this on his own. He needed to tell the boys what he'd seen and then they could tell him he was full of shit and needed to drink less - or more. Chuck pulled up the phone, flipping it open and hitting redial. Hopefully they'd be in a better mood this time.

The moment Sam heard the ring tone on his phone he groaned and tried to roll to the side only to find out he was almost completely trapped. Sam cracked his eyelids and looked down to discover he was completely trapped by his brother. Swallowing hard he tried to ignore the fact that he actually kind of liked the feel of his brother's weight pressing him down into the mattress. "Dean?" The ringer had to stop or Sam was pretty sure his brain was going to bleed out his ears. There was no way he could get to the phone with Dean sleeping. Sliding his hand over his brother's back Sam shook Dean gently. "Dean... get up..."

Flopping away from his brother, Dean groaned and once more buried his head into the pillow. "Jesus tell whoever that is that I am going to _kill_ them," he mumbled and stretched his body out, arms above his head, toes pointing down. The mattress felt too cool under him and he shifted slightly back toward his brother.

Rolling toward the side of the bed Sam, somehow, managed to stumble to his feet and lurch toward the phone. "I'ma fuckin' _kill_ whoever that is - you won't have to," Sam muttered as he snatched his phone up off the bed. "'Lo - I'm gonna kill you, whoever you are." He fell back onto the empty bed.

It wasn't a very settling greeting and Chuck swallowed a few times. He should have waited until tomorrow to call. Or maybe he should have just not called at all and just pretended like he didn't see or dream anything. "Uh... hey Sam. Sorry. You still suffering? What happened?" Chuck decided to play the naive card, it seemed safest.

Sam frowned and scratched at the back of his head for a few moments. "Chuck? Is there a reason for this sudden interest in my well-being because I still have a gun, and I _still_ know where you live." Something had absolutely died in Sam's mouth while he was sleeping.

Forcing a chuckle, Chuck rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, "Uh... it's cause of... you know, the reason I need to talk to you two. I'm just... hyper aware at the moment. So... you know..." Chuck blew out a long breath and rolled his shoulders. God, sometimes Chuck really hated his life.

Still buried in the pillow, Dean just barely moved his head to the side to peer at his brother. "Ask him if the world is ending in the next forty eight hours, if not, then anything else can wait."

Sam grunted something that might have passed as answering his brother. "Chuck, we'll be there... is this important? Is someone in danger?" Just about at the end of his rope - Sam's patience was thin.

"Oh... you know... just me," Chuck mumbled and stumbled over to his whiskey bottle. Never drunk enough for this shit. "It's pretty important. I just... uh... you guys just be careful. With each other and stuff. So yeah... as soon as you can, head this way. A couple days?"

"Fine. Chuck - don't call me again unless you're almost dead." Sam slapped at his phone to turn it off and tossed it onto the bed. Rubbing his eyes Sam rolled to the side so he could see his brother, smirking when all he could see was Dean's boxer clad ass. "I can’t tell by your ass, dude, how you doin'?" Not that Dean's ass wasn't nice. Sam blinked three times, sat up and frowned. What in the _hell_?

Dean managed to shift himself to the side enough to peek through dry and crusty eye lids at his brother. "Like a bag of shit set on fire," he grumbled roughly, throat clenching around the dry unpleasantness in his throat. "Need water, and death maybe," he groaned and rolled toward the edge of the bed, pushing himself up to stumble to the bathroom. At least it didn't feel like he was about to throw up his stomach, that was progress.

"Chuck's really grown a wild hair up his ass about us getting there," Sam hollered toward the bathroom door. "We should probably get going. Can you drive yet?" Sam wasn't entirely sure that _he_ could. Apart from the fact that he still felt pretty much like road kill - he kept getting the strangest flashes of misty sort of images from the night before. It was all kind of distracting. It was particularly distracting because they seemed to be primarily of a naked guy.

"Dean?" Sam pushed up off the bed and hunted around for his boxers. "Where the _hell_ were we last night?" He nearly fell over trying to get his boxers on and stumbled toward the coffee pot to try and wrestle the pot out of the machine. Sam padded over to the bathroom door and tapped the empty pot against the partially open bathroom door. "Can... I c'min?"

Mumbling around the toothbrush in his mouth, Dean tugged open the door before spitting into the sink. "Truth Sam? I don't really remember much of last night," Dean caught a glimpse of his brother's chest in the mirror and his mind flashed to an image of his hand dragging down that chest, fingers grazing along the nipple. Dean cleared his throat and stared down at the sink. "So uh... did Chuck say anything? About what's so important?" That heat from earlier stirred up again and Dean's face scrunched together in confusion. "We need greasy food. Good hangover remedy."

"Chuck didn't say a damn thing..." Sam shoved into the bathroom. "Should I even bother making coffee or just wait till... food..." he was so freaking tired he couldn't even be bothered to form complete sentences. Tossing the shower curtain back he leaned over and turned on the shower. Turning back to Dean, Sam found that his eyes were dragging down his brother's body, the curves of his back and he had the strangest feeling that he'd run his hand down that very same path. "Fuck," Sam muttered, "I need a shower." Hesitating only a moment he dropped his boxers and stepped under the stream of scalding hot water moaning softly.

"I'll just put the coffee on," Dean muttered and turned away from the shower, a little surprised at the urge to climb in a long with his brother. He needed to get over this hangover thing and Dean seriously considered never drinking again. It was _that_ bad. "Maybe we should wait until morning... if it's not life or death. I don't wanna crash the car and at this point... I don't know," Dean shook his head and slid over to the shower, peeking just inside before blinking and looking away. "Food's important though."

"Dude..." Sam blinked the shampoo out of his eyes, "did you just look at me?" He laughed.

Dean's eyes widened slightly and he scoffed loudly, "No way. Shut up." It was pretty lame as far as come backs went but Dean was too intently focused on forcing the flush of color off his cheeks. "Coffee," he grunted and snatched the coffee pot Sam had set down, turning on the faucet and scrubbing a hand roughly over his face.

The shock of the hot water suddenly getting twice as hot was nearly enough to stop Sam's heart. "Jesus, _Fuck_ ," he yelled and slammed the curtain to the side so he could leap over the side of the tub. It all would have worked well except that his wet foot gave him no grip whatsoever and he skidded straight across the linoleum into Dean's side and jammed his brother up against the wall.

Dean's mind flashed to Sam beneath him, body arching up into his touch, lips skidding down smooth skin. That image combined with the burning slick of Sam's flesh over his had Dean's eyes widening, hands going almost instinctively to Sam's hip bones and curling roughly. "S-sam," he stumbled over his brother's name, pursing his lips and swallowing, trying to wrap his still aching mind around the reactions his body was having to Sam over him.

The only way that Sam could describe the feeling that flooded through his body was _heat_ , right from the exact spot where Dean's fingers were digging into his flesh, straight to his... _God_. "Dean," Sam shuffled backwards and fumbled for a towel off the rack, "I'm... sorry man. Hot water... hot..." he gestured at the sink. Why his mind was suddenly filled with images of his brother's body, naked, sweat-slick and writhing... was beyond him.

Pursing his lips, Dean nodded quickly and stepped forward to turn off the faucet. He had to work to keep his eyes fixed somewhere that wasn't Sam's naked body still too close to him. Once more his mind was flashing to Sam beneath him, rocking up into him, clenching around his _cock_. "Fuck," he gasped and curled his fingers along the counter as pleasure shot through him. How Dean had managed to provide complete and perfect mental pictures of fucking his _brother_ was beyond him but he was starting to question if there was something laced with that alcohol. "Should shower," he mumbled, glancing toward the still running shower. "You done?"

"Yeah..." Sam shivered, "I can be done." Done? He just wanted to get the hell out of the bathroom so he could deal with the fact that he was suddenly completely hard under his towel just _thinking_ about Dean. Okay - it was more than thinking - it was being pressed up against him... _Jesus_. Why did he know he would feel good? It was almost like they'd... Sam darted out the bathroom door kicking it closed behind him.

Dean jumped as the door slammed closed and he stared at the solid wood surface for a few minutes before slowly shaking his head and tugging down his boxers. What the _fuck_ had happened last night?

It only took him a few minutes to shower; resolutely ignoring the heat in his cock and its halfway pressing demands. When he stepped back into the main room, towel slung low on his waist, he purposefully ignored looking for his brother and headed straight for the duffel bag. "Okay, feeling a little more human. Once we get food I think I will be okay to drive."

"Okay," Sam had already packed, entirely too suspicious of what had happened in the motel room to want to stay there another night. It wasn't the fact that they'd shared a bed, hell, they done that before even _if_ it hadn't been for a lot of years. It wasn't even the fact that he was suddenly finding himself quite turned on as he tried to wade through blurry half formed memories from the night before that looked more like out takes for a porno than a night of drinking with his brother. The bottle of lube by the bed had pretty much sealed the deal. Sam didn't want to know why it was there. Not at all. "I'm ready to go." He was packed, dressed and waiting, holding out Dean's car keys.

Dean snorted a laugh as he stepped into his jeans, "The motel on fire or something?" He asked and coughed to clear his throat. Sam definitely looked a little more human than he had a few minutes before. He turned to his brother as he pulled his shirt over his head and caught the last of Sam's hand dragging through his hair, watching the silky brown tumble forward. Dean's lips sealed together in a thin line and he turned slowly back to his bag. "So uh... do you remember anything that happened last night?" He tugged the bag up to throw on the bed and look around the room for any items he may have missed.

"No," Sam blurted out. "No." Well, it wasn't entirely a lie. He didn't _remember_ he was just kind of having flashbacks - which could be entirely some sort of weird ass dream rather than an actual occurrence. "I'm not sure..." he sighed, "that I really want to know." It was the damn bottle of lube - which Sam was pretty sure Dean was going to discover in about three... two... one...

The little bottle sat on the nightstand, _mocking_ Dean, and things clicked together far too quickly for his liking. Heat shot up his body and he turned away sharply, eyes widening slightly. "Oh." He blinked a few times, eyes darting up to Sam before he cleared his throat and stepped toward his bag, zipping it up quickly. He'd just fucking replace anything if he left it behind. They needed to _go_. "Let's get some food before I vomit bile," he grunted and bee lined for the door.

With one last look around the motel room Sam took a deep breath. It was going to be an awfully _great_ ride to Chuck's.

-=-=-=-

All Dean had been able to think about for the past four hours of the drive was _Sam_. And not just because he was sitting across from him the car, a thick layer of awkward tension weighing heavily in the car. There was something more to it. Dean felt a little like he was missing the piece to the puzzle or something. He kept getting flashes of slick skin and burning kisses. Then there were the facts. They'd both gotten really drunk, they both woke up naked and apparently Sam's ass had been aching. There was a bottle of used lube on the nightstand. But the idea was _ridiculous_ because they couldn't possibly have _fucked_ each other. Dean was losing his mind and as hour five of their drive clicked over to hour six, he finally pulled the car to a stop along the side of the empty stretch of back road, kicking open the door and pushing out of the car. He slammed the door behind him harder then he'd intended but by this point it was feeling like a miracle that his brain was still functioning in the slightest. It had to be a _mistake_.

Sighing, Sam reached for the door handle and opened it, sliding off the seat and stretching. "Dean? Y'okay?" Sam leaned back against the car. He was mentally exhausted. He'd been trying to come up with some other explanation for what had happened the night before other than what all the signs pointed to. His brain had stopped functioning properly about two hours back down the road and he'd been watching the slow-burn of Dean's frustration and anger building. Sam had been waiting. He'd been watching his brother for a lot of years, he knew the signs.

"No Sam, I'm really fuckin' not," Dean whipped around to him, eyes slightly wide. His hands extended to the side as he paced in the path of the headlights, "I'm pretty sure..." Dean swallowed hard enough to make his throat ache. " _Fuck_ ," he spat and bent in half to snatch a rock from the ground and chuck it as hard he could into the field along the side of the road. They shouldn't even be in this situation and the more time that passed, the more real the idea became, the closer Dean came to that point of really accepting what had happened. Which just wasn't good.

"Dean, calm down and let's talk about this." Sam took a few steps closer, approaching his brother like he was a wounded animal. He kept his voice soft, "hey... nothing can be that bad right?" Sam's eyes were wide and nervous. Okay - so this was quite a bit bad but, really? They had faced worse and they probably would again.

Dean swallowed once more and stepped quick into his brother's space, "Calm down?" He curled his fingers in Sam's shirt, tugging him up right. "I'm pretty damn sure I _fucked_ you last night Sam and for all I know I _forced_ you into and you want me to fucking _calm down_?" He released Sam with a quick shake of his head and turned away, heat flaring up his face in shame as he glared down at the ground.

Blinking a few times Sam tugged his shirt back down and pressed his lips together. What the hell was he supposed to say? Dean - had this way of making things _his_ fault, _his_ responsibility - Sam had long ago accepted it as a big brother kind of thing. "Dean? Look at me." Sam's voice was level, steady, not at all giving away how fucked up and scared he was by the entire thing.

Allowing himself a few more minutes to calm the anger and irritation flaring up in him, Dean paced for a few minutes more before sighing and turning to his brother. He let his eyes scan along the car for a minute before he lifted them to Sam's eyes. "What?" He asked quietly, scratching at his head.

Sam held his hands out in front of him, looking down at his palms. "I'm not hurt," he murmured, "no bruises, no cuts, scratches, and I can't see any on you." His eyes flicked from his hands to Dean's chest then to his brother's wide eyes. "I don't think you're hurt... are you hurt?"

"No, not hurt," Dean shook his head and took a small step toward his brother. "But... you said your ass..." Dean cringed slightly, not really sure if he wanted to ask this specific question. Talk about _awkward_. "It... still hurts?" He wet his lips as his mind provided a nice mini video as to why exactly Sam's ass should be hurting.

That was a part of the discussion that Sam wasn’t quite prepared for. Maybe sometime in the next few hours he'd figure out how to explain that. "Listen - you're a big guy, I'm a big guy - you think you could force me to do... anything... without me fighting back? Or vice versa? Think about that for a few seconds." Sam reached up, hesitated, then grabbed Dean's upper arm and ducked his head down to meet his brother’s eyes. "Yeah? Am I right?"

"That doesn't answer my question," Dean pointed out and met Sam's eyes for a long moment before he dropped his gaze. "But... yeah. Yeah I guess you're right. Doesn't really make things easier to accept," he muttered and rolled his shoulders to try and shrug off the tension. He could feel heat spinning through him, all zeroed in on Sam's hand on his arm. "Jesus Sam... what the hell happened?" His eyes shot up to Sam's and he chuckled slightly, "okay not what happened, because I think I'm figuring that out pretty easily but... _how_? And why does everything feel so..." Dean shrugged and stepped toward Sam without even realizing what he was doing.

"It... uh..." Sam's fingers curled harder into his brother's arm. All those images flashing through his mind all day, the sensations, _fuck_ , even now having Dean standing _just_ inside his space was making Sam's heart race. Staring down at his hand, Sam watched his thumb move slowly over the materials of his brother's jacket. "I think maybe we... got a little drunk - okay - a lot drunk and maybe did something we wouldn't normally do because..." he shrugged letting his hand slide down his brother's arm until his thumb was just touching the skin on the back of Dean's hand.

Dean wet his lips, feet shifting forward until his shoes brushed along Sam's. "Clearly we got a lot drunk," he chuckled softly and stared down at Sam's thumb along his hand. "I wish I could remember what got us to that situation... did we just..." Dean shook his head. "Probably better to just not think about it huh? Try and... pretend to get over it... I mean, get over it," Dean blinked and considered stepping back because that heat flaring up his arm was too much and there's wasn't going to be any getting over it if he stayed this close to Sam.

Sam rolled his bottom lip into his mouth for a few moments and tucked it under his teeth as his eyes moved over Dean's face. Lips parting finally he whispered "I guess, if that's what you want." Hours he'd been thinking about it, and thinking how it just wasn't a _bad_ feeling that washed over him when these half-solid images skittered through his mind. "If that's what you think..." Sam sighed, a slight smile on his lips.

Letting his eyes scan across Sam's face for a long minute, Dean turned the options over in his mind. He'd never felt so torn about something in his life. "What I want...?" He breathed and wet his lips slowly. Dean dragged his tongue along his lips as his hand slid up to cup along the back of Sam's neck and drag him down. The moment their lips touched the night before seemed to explode in his mind. The way Sam's skin burned under him, the intensity of his moans penetrating his thoughts. Dean moaned and stepped into Sam's body until they were pressed flushed together. His hand curled tighter in Sam's hair as his tongue thrust forward into Sam's mouth.

Sam's knees buckled, hands automatically grabbing at Dean's jacket to help hold him up. _God_ , it was _this_. _This_ right here was what had been lurking in the back of his mind, rippling out from those visions. His head fell to the side, slanting their mouths together, opening up to Dean's kiss. Dean's tongue - the taste of his brother, too much coffee and pie from the diner - _Jesus_. He leaned into Dean's body soaking up the heat that radiated off him even through their clothes. The night air was cool crisp in Sam's lungs even as Dean's fingers burned into the flesh on his neck.

It was fairly easy to lose track of time while kissing Sam. Their tongues slid together, warm and pleasant, shooting through Dean's system like fireworks. He backed Sam up until his brother was resting against the hood of the car and Dean was leaning into him, mouths moving together in slow, pleasant slides. When he finally pulled back he was cupping both sides of Sam's neck and panting softly, tongue flickering over his lips as he pulled in the taste. "Well..." he whispered and dropped his forehead to rest against Sam's. "Definitely gonna remember that."

Sam rolled his head against his brother's as his hands settled on Dean's hips, tucking through his belt loops. "I... that..." he smiled and swallowed, breathing in his brother's air. "Was... yeah. I'm okay with that happening - you know - again. If you wanted." Dean's thigh was burning against his and Sam was shivering slightly. Maybe it was the cold; maybe it was the way being this close to Dean was pretty much intoxicating in a way that was blowing Sam's mind.

"I think I might want that," Dean nodded and huffed out a quick breath. "Damn... this is... god this really shouldn't happen huh?" He asked even as he leaned forward to brush his lips against Sam's. "Should we make a list of how fucked up this is to be doing with each other or should we just accept the fact that there is absolutely nothing normal about our lives?" Dean laughed softly and slipped his tongue along Sam's lips.

Sam's lips twitched into a smile, his hand slipped up to press against Dean's t-shirt. He liked the way his brother's laugh rumbled in his chest. "Not a normal thing in sight," Sam said softly. His fingers curled into the soft cotton and tugged. "I... we should..." Sam shrugged a shoulder, "Chuck," he murmured nuzzling against Dean's temple.

"Damn Chuck," Dean mumbled and sighed as he stepped back. "Whatever he needs, it better be damn important," he grumbled and pulled Sam up off the car, sliding their lips together once more. "Wanna drive for awhile?"

"Only if you're gonna stop doing that or I'm gonna drive us into a tree." Sam chuckled softly and reluctantly released his grip on Dean's shirt. Sliding behind the wheel a few moments later Sam shifted to get comfortable and fired up the engine. "Let's get goin'."

Dean shifted in his seat and stared at the windshield as Sam took them down the road. He considered his options for a few minutes before sliding across the seat and leaning heavily against Sam's side. He grinned up at Sam for a moment before lifting Sam's arm and laying it across his shoulders. He could get used to that.


	2. Chapter 2

For awhile Dean dosed, arm draped across Sam's waist. He was still sleeping off a good majority of the hangover from before and his mind was still doing a lot of reeling. When he woke up for good the sun was rising on the horizon and Dean drummed his fingers on Sam's thigh and told him quietly to pull over so they could switch places. Once Sam was settled into the spot beside him, Dean slinging around his shoulders slowly and massaging the back of his neck. They'd be at Chuck's just after noon at the rate they were going and Dean considered what it was that their friend needed so much help with.

It occurred to him a few hours out, with Sam asleep at his side, that he had a pretty damn good idea what Chuck needed to talk to them about. "Sam?" He said softly and shook Sam's shoulder, stiffening in his seat. "Hey Sam," he nudged at his brother to get him to wake.

Sitting up quickly Sam rubbed at his eyes, "what... you okay? What happened?" He shifted quickly to look at Dean's face in the bright sunlight. "What time is it?"

"Uh," Dean glanced down at his watch, "It's after ten. But I've been thinking about Chuck and why he wants to see us so bad..." Dean's eyes slid to his brother and narrowed slightly. "You don't think... I mean... would Chuck have seen...?" He gestured between them, eyes slightly widening as the full implication of that weighed on his shoulders.

Sam groaned, " _Jesus_ ," he'd had his own share of conversations with Chuck about what he _had_ and _hadn't_ seen. "What? _Oh fuck._ " Sam shifted back to the passenger side of the car. "Would he?" Sam held his hands out, "why would he think he needed to talk to us?" Chuck - the unpredictable. "I knew it couldn't be good - something bad is gonna happen because of this. That's what it is." Sam's knee started to bounce nervously.

"You would think if he knew he would just not want to talk about it. I mean, it's not like he can really _stop_ anything from happening unless..." Dean frowned and scratched at his cheek. "Unless he thinks he's the reason it happened. I mean... maybe he thinks..." Dean barked out a large swell of laughter and shook his head. "Oh god Sam... what if he _wrote_ it?" His fingers curled along the wheel as laughter had him hunching in on himself. "Oh god Chuck wrote _slash_."

Sam stopped moving and turned his head slowly toward Dean. "So he... we..." his hand gestured back and forth between the two of them. "So - he knows... he _wrote_ it. Oh god... Dean... I'm _so_ not going there. Why are we going there?" Sam's eyes were wide and glassy and even he could hear the hint of panic in his own voice.

"Okay, chill Sam," Dean reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Let's turn this is in our favour. So obviously Chuck wrote about us, if the world isn't ending then it's the only thing I can think of that would freak him out enough to get him to call us. But he doesn't know we've actually _done_ anything right? So..." Dean shrugged and grinned over at Sam. "It's gonna be okay."

Sam looked a little sceptical and shook his head slightly, "I don't know, Dean."

"If he did write it... that means he _has_ it," Dean pursed his lips and turned to Sam once more. "We could... read it."

So many words tried to come out of Sam's mouth all at once that he nearly choked. "You want to what?"

The idea appealed to Dean more and more the longer he thought about it. "You don't want too? I don't remember all the specific details but Chuck would have written them all. So... we could read them and know _exactly_ what happened," Dean's grin was just a little wicked as he glanced over at his brother. "C'mon, that has to sound a little appealing to you."

"A..Appealing?" Sam's cheeks started to redden. "Reading about you and I?" He couldn't say it out loud. Somehow that made it all a little too real at his stage of things. Sam was still trying to wrap his mind around how kissing Dean had been pretty much the hottest thing he'd done in his life so far. He wasn't sure he was ready to read _slash_ about himself.

"Well it's not like it's written by anyone else... and it's not made up. It's basically like watching a video we made, only words. And well... Chuck wrote it," Dean chuckled and shrugged. "You don't have to read it. I, for one, plan on making Chuck feel as awkward as possible and then requesting to read it."

"Well, it's gonna work on me. Dean, _Jesus_ he knows more about our... us... than we do!" Sam barely managed to stop short of saying _our sex life_. "I'm really, like _really_ pretty certain I don't want to read it. I'm not sure it makes any difference who wrote it." Sam folded his arms and sunk down on the seat.

Dean chuckled and shrugged as he settled back in the seat, smirk still pulling up his lips. "That's okay, you don't have too. I'll let you know how good I was." He darted his eyes toward Sam, already thinking of all the ways he could tease Chuck when they showed up.

Sam's fist whipped out to whack into his brother's shoulder. "I have a feeling, _I_ was definitely better at whatever we did." He tried to hide the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth.

Rolling his eyes, Dean reached out to snag Sam's shirt and drag him across the seat, "You just had to lay there and take it, of course you were good. Me though? I was probably a fuckin' sex god." He grinned at Sam and rocked his shoulder into Sam's chest.

"Lay there and take it?" Sam's mouth fell open. "You cocky sonuvabitch." But, his fingers slid down to settled on Dean's thigh anyway. He had plenty of time to prove himself right about whatever he may or may _not_ want to prove later.

Chuckling fondly, Dean slid a hand through Sam's hair. "So... you wanna fuck with Chuck's head? Cause that really could be a lot of fun. We could make him think he ruined our relationship," Dean turned to Sam and smiled wickedly. "We might as well have a little fun with it right? Since it's going to be awkward as hell."

"So what," Sam's face softened a little, he liked it when Dean was like this - a little relaxed - happy for once, "we go in swingin'?" He raised an eyebrow and leaned into Dean's hand.

Dean grinned and slowed the car to a stop, the road clear around him, just long enough to brush his lips against Sam's. "Poor Chuck, he already suffers so much... now he's gonna have to live with dreams of us... we won't make him suffer too long," Dean chuckled and slid back to shift the car into drive once more. "And then we're going to tell him not to call us unless someone's _life_ depends on it."

Heart racing a little, Sam leaned harder into Dean, "and not to call us _ever_ that early in the morning."

By the time they pulled up across the street from Chuck’s house Sam had pretty much swung around to Dean's point of view. After all, it wasn't every day they got to mess with a prophet of the Lord. Chuck - really deserved some messing with too. Some of the things that Sam and Dean had been through over the years... well, he couldn't help blaming Chuck partially. When Dean turned the engine off Sam reached out to curl his fingers over his brother's wrist, rubbing his thumb along the dark veins under his skin. "We're okay right?"

A small smile quirked Dean's lips up and he dipped his head in a nod. "Yeah Sam, we're good," he twisted his hand under Sam's touched and dipped down for a moment to lay his head on Sam's shoulder. "Okay you ready for this?" He turned back to the driver's side, hand falling to the door knob.

"Ready," Sam pushed his door open and fell into step beside his brother. As soon as they were up the small concrete path and in front of Chuck's door Sam nodded once then knocked.

Chuck had heard the car rumbling down the road but he hadn't been strong enough to motivate himself to get up off the couch until there was a knock at the door. Sighing heavily, Chuck crossed to the front door and slowly tugged it open rubbing at his sleep ruffled hair. "Uh hey guys. Didn't take too long for you guys to get here."

Dean brushed past Chuck, huffing out something that could have been a greeting and bee lining for the kitchen.

Eyes widening slightly, Chuck watched Dean go then turned to Sam, "Everything okay?"

"No, Chuck..." Sam hissed, "everything is _not_ okay - what the _hell_ were you thinking?" He leaned over Chuck making the best use of his height advantage. "Written anything interesting lately, Chuck?"

Chuck's eyes widened as he backed up to the wall, "I... I couldn't... it was the dreams! They wouldn't go away. I kept having them and the... the... stories normally... but I didn't... I mean you guys _didn't_ right?"

Dean rounded the corner and slammed his hand onto the wall just inside the door frame. "You fuckin' know we _did_ you ass. You're the prophet right? You write it and it fuckin' comes true. So thanks a _fuckin'_ lot."

"I-I-I..." Chuck shot wide eyed looks between Dean and Sam. "But you guys were really drunk right? You don't remember any of it? Cause I know I wrote you both _really_ drunk."

Sam rolled his shoulders and stepped back from Chuck. "Oh we were drunk - but you think I wouldn't remember what... Dean did?" He folded his arms and looked down, trying hard to cover his eyes with his hair. _God_ even he was starting to think this was a little cruel.

"But... you liked it!" Chuck insisted and turned from them, crossing quickly to the computer and dropping down to sort through the computer folders until he found the appropriate file. A minute later the papers were falling from the printer and he snatched them up, turning back. "I uh, not saying you should... you know, continue this. But you liked it! Really you did so you should stop hating each other, and me, and you know, uh... uh..."

"Get over it?" Dean suggested and stepped forward, snatching the papers. "God Chuck, you saved this? Why didn't you just delete it?"

"I... it's weird. It's hard for me to delete anything. I can't really..." Chuck shrugged and looked at Sam with sad eyes. "I'm really sorry. You know I don't control these things, it's just what I see."

"Chuck, you should have warned us man. You don't call people... the morning after it's too late to do anything." Sam shook his head, "I can't believe you kept it. Dean and I - we can't... we can't even _look_ at each other anymore Chuck! Do you realize that? What happens now?" Sam stepped a little closer.

Chuck cowered under Sam's intense gaze, eyes flickering to Dean who was leafing through the pages. "I uh... but I saw you two kiss! So that can't... maybe you'll make amends. You two could be like..." Chuck cringed slightly and fidgeted with the front of his shirt. "I don't know I mean, nothing else is normal between you two so you could... and it would be really easy too..."

"Except neither of us are gay and oh yeah, we're _brothers_ ," Dean glared at Chuck and scoffed loudly. "Are you really suggesting we be lovers?"

Pursing his lips, Chuck stepped back a little and slid away, "I... well it would be understandable. You two love each other as is and... and... apparently can share quite the uh... night..." Chuck flushed brightly and looked up at them pleadingly. "Y-you might... you know, enjoy it and I don't... I promise I won't write anything more, I'll just ignore them. For good. I promise so you know..."

Sam shook his head, "I don't know, Chuck. You said you had no control over it..." he glanced at Dean thinking that he probably wasn't going to be able to last much longer without cracking. Chuck looked pretty cowed and Sam didn't want to step over the line into cruel.

"I think he's done permanent damage," Dean nodded and crossed to his brother, eyes staying fixed on Chuck. He pursed his lips to keep from laughing, poor Chuck. Shaking his head he slid into the place beside Sam and turned to look at him. "What do you think Sam? This is probably gonna stay with us forever huh?"

Nodding firmly, Sam tilted his head slightly and cast his eyes downward then slipped his arm around his brother's waist. His lips twitched into a smile.

"I'm really... hey..." Chuck slid his eyes up off the ground, darting between the two of them. "W-wait. You were... oh my _god_ you two are _assholes_ ," Chuck's palm lifted up to fall against his forehead, shaking back and forth. "God and I really thought I'd fucked everything up."

Dean chuckled and shook his head, stepping closer into Sam's body, arm sliding his shoulder, "Sorry Chuck, you're just really easy to pick on. Helped that you were already so freaked out."

Grinning, Sam slipped his fingers into Dean's back pocket. He was already thinking he could get used to this. "Still, Chuck... you kinda deserved it. You could have warned us." He thought about that and frowned, "not that we would have believed you... but still..."

"I thought I..." Chuck shook his head, "God I thought I was losing my mind. I wasn't even going to say anything and then I called to check in and you were... well obviously something had happened. So... Dean? Are you really going to read _that_?"

Dean looked up from the pages of text he'd been scanning. "Well yeah, you got us so drunk we can only remember bits and pieces so I want to see exactly what happened." Dean laughed as Chuck opened and closed his mouth in surprise. "I uh... think we should go though. Cause reading this..." He shook his head, laughing low in his throat.

Sam recognized the _tone_ in Dean's laughter and he took a deep breath. "Okay then." He tugged on Dean's pocket, pulling him quickly toward the door. "Chuck? It's been a pleasure. Don't call us again unless someone is dying." Sam smiled broadly, both hands now tugging on Dean.

"Uh huh," Chuck nodded and turned around. He needed to be drunk about ten minutes ago.

Dean laughed again as they headed out of the house, slamming the door behind them. "Man... I almost feel bad for Chuck. I hope he doesn't have to dream about us for a long time, cause I know we're hot but..." Dean shrugged and tugged Sam to the car.

Sam walked behind Dean until they were almost to the car then shoved his brother forward pinning him to the car. He leaned into Dean's back, burying his nose in Dean's hair and moving down so his lips could brush across the bare flesh just above Dean's collar. There under the streetlight, not even caring if anyone saw, Sam slipped his hand down across his brother's hip and stretched forward to cup his brother's already hardening cock. "Want to find a room for the night?"

"Fuck," Dean curled his fingers into the car and rocked back against Sam's body. "Yeah, definitely a room. As much as I like the idea of having you right here, Chuck's probably traumatized enough." He shoved back against Sam, grinding into his brother's crotch. "Saw a motel not too far from here."

That kind of back-fired, because suddenly, Sam felt like he was the one who _wanted_. "Okay... drive," he growled and shoved Dean out of the way of the door so he could climb in the car.

Dean nodded and hurried quickly around the car.

-=-=-=-

The minute the door of the motel room closed behind them Dean spun Sam around hard, shoving him up against the wood and stepping forward instantly into his space and crushing their lips together. He ground his hips hard into Sam's body, hand sliding through his hair, tongue thrusting hard and rough into his brother's mouth. Pleasure shot through him and he moaned into the kiss, free hand shoving up roughly under Sam's shirt.

Sam's legs nearly gave out, his lashes fluttered closed and his hands slide straight under Dean's shirt to travel smoothly round his back. He groaned as he tried to gasp in some air between their frantic, rough kisses, hips matching his brother's powerful thrusting and grinding. Growling, Sam yanked his arms back and shoved Dean back hard, spinning them and pressing him against the wall beside them. He mouthed his way along Dean's jaw and bit down hard just in front of his brother's ear. "You're bossy," he breathed against Dean's ear.

"I try to be consistent," Dean moaned softly, head falling back against the wall to grant Sam more room to explore his neck. His hand slid around to the front of Sam's chest to work at the buttons on his shirt. "You know you love it," he added and shoved roughly at the fabric until Sam was slipping out of his shirt. Pushing up against him, Dean backed them up to the only bed in the room and slid his hands along Sam's bare chest. "God..." he moaned softly and grazed his fingers over Sam's nipples, the way his brother's flesh burned beneath his palms was more amazing than he thought possible.

"What happened..." Sam's voice was thick as his nipples hardened and ached under his brother's touch, "to reading... you w..wanted to read..." His eyelids felt heavy and his chest was already heaving as he tried to get enough oxygen into his lungs to keep his brain working. Shaking hands pushed at Dean's jacket until it fell off his shoulders and Sam moved quickly, long fingers slipping under the hem of Dean's t-shirt and pulling it up and off. He leaned in, down, his lips sliding along Dean's collar bone then back up the side of his neck - fingers moving on Dean's chest. Sam's lips skittered across his brother's long neck, sucking, biting and licking he moaned against Dean's flesh.

Dean moaned softly and worked his fingers down to Sam's waist line. "Pages aren't going anywhere," he mumbled as his fingers unfastened the belt and worked the button from its hold. "Read 'em later," Dean dipped his body back slightly to grant Sam more access to his skin, toeing out of his boots and kicking them to the side. Dean figured he could just find out firsthand what was on the pages; it would be a lot better in the long run. He shoved roughly at Sam's jeans, fingers sliding along the silky curve of his hip bone.

"Dean..." Sam kicked his boots off, fingers fumbling at the button on his brother's jeans. "Shouldn't we..." Sam finally managed to get his brother's pants undone and shoved them down revealing the tender skin of his hips. His long cool fingers trailed over the flesh there... "don't we have to decide... you know..." he dipped his knees so he could capture Dean's mouth with his for a few moments, "who's... the top...?" Sam blushed and closed his eyes, rolling his hips against Dean's.

A wide grin stretched across Dean's lips and he pushed his brother down onto the bed, crawling over him and rolling their hips together as he kicked off his pants. "You got a problem with me on top?" Dean murmured and brushed their lips together. He rolled his hips down into Sam's crotch, sliding their cocks together, groaning into the kiss. His hands slid along Sam's body, relishing all the dips and curves, the way the skin burned up into his palm.

Shaking his head mutely, Sam smiled and licked his lips slowly. Crawling backwards further up the bed Sam stretched out looking down at his brother. "Guess I just have to lie here..." he smirked and rolled his bottom lip into his mouth to hide his amusement. He loved it when Dean's own words came back to bit him in the ass. Tucking his hands behind his head Sam closed his eyes.

Eyebrows lifting in amusement, Dean crawled up and knelt between Sam's spread legs. "I think that makes you my little slut Sam," he smirked and trailed his fingers inside Sam's thigh. "Of course we left the lube back at that motel," Dean stroked the course looks of hair surrounding the base of Sam's cock. "Whatever will we _do_?" He chuckled and curled his fingers around Sam's cock.

Blowing out a breath Sam opened his eyes and looked up at his brother's face, hips already rolling up trying to slide his hard shaft up through his brother's grip. "R..Read?"

Dean rolled his eyes and twisted his fist around Sam's cock. "You're _hilarious_ ," he chuckled hoarsely and sucked a few fingers into his mouth, thoroughly drenching them with spit. "Of course if you'd rather read," he shrugged even as his fingers slid low under Sam's balls, circling around the puckered flesh. Before Sam could respond he pressed one finger inside, sliding in as far as he could go in one quick push. "Still sore?" He murmured, working Sam's cock in his palm in gentle strokes.

Sam's shoulder pushed up off the bed, "Yeah... I mean... n..no..." it burned, a lot... and Sam's cock was starting to go a little soft until Dean's palm began dragging over the sensitive skin again. "Mhmmm", Sam's voice was gravelly, his throat dry. He could feel his muscles relaxing around Dean's finger and his hips started their gentle roll again, ass dragging on the rough cotton quilt under him.

Dean really wished he had lube, just to ease that look of discomfort on Sam's face, but it couldn't be helped right now. They'd make do. And Sam seemed to be recovering pretty quickly so Dean didn't feel bad about the gentle rock of his finger, matching the steady strokes along Sam's cock. He watched his finger slide in and out of Sam's ass and bit down on his lip, moaning softly.

"Dean?" Sam's groaned and pushed up slowly, lips wet, eyes wide. "You know..." his eyes darted over to his bag, "I have lube... outside pocket." He grinned shyly, thinking he'd probably have to explain why later.

Blinking down at his brother for a moment, Dean opened his mouth to ask Sam what he needed a bottle of lube for but then, the bottle from the night before had been his own so he didn't have rights to be too inquisitive. Dean was too curious for his own good though so by the time he pulled his finger from Sam and stumbled across the room for his brother's bag, Dean just _had_ to ask. "So uh... lube?" He asked curiously as he hurried back to his place between Sam's legs and flipped open the cap. "Have you done this before?" He asked curiously, squeezing the cool liquid onto his fingers. "You know, besides the... us thing."

Raising his eyebrows Sam looked up at his brother with a mischievous expression on his face. "Not telling," he teased but he shook his head slightly, pressed his lips together and looked down, "I haven't."

"Then what...?" Dean frowned for a moment before shaking his head, "you know I'm gonna give you crap until I found out about that right?" Dean smirked and once more slid his finger back inside Sam. "After of course. There are more pressing matters right now," he twisted his finger inside Sam in a slow, circular motion. Once he was certain Sam only felt pleasure from the movement he added another finger to the mix, rubbing it along the puckered flesh before slipping just the tip inside. Dean had to bite down on his lip to keep his focus as one hand stroked steadily along Sam's cock and the other worked slow inches forward until two fingers were buried inside Sam.

Sam was restless under his brother's touch. The muscles in his ass were clenching then loosening, his abs rippling as he rolled forward then collapsed back down. Pulling his foot up onto the bed Sam rested his thigh against Dean's shoulder, spine twisting. "Dean," he murmured, "wanna feel you," his skin was cooling off, and right there, just out of reach was the smooth skin of his brother's chest, the curves of his muscles... " _Jesus_."

"Mm see you're my perfect little slut," Dean murmured, voice rough, and scissored his fingers inside Sam before his brother could come up with any sort of retort. Dean could watch Sam like this for the rest of the afternoon and through the night, if his body would allow that. Currently though his system was pressing him on urgently. Dean wet his lips and continued to work quick circles to stretch Sam beneath him. "Take another?" He asked, voice much deeper as a third finger pressed against the hole and slid slowly in. Dean watched Sam's face intently as the finger slid forward and his hand continued its quick strokes. "God Sam... wanna fuck you, tell me when..."

When his mind slowed down from the heat that shot through him Sam smiled. _God_ , it was good... better than he'd expected and he wanted more. "Now," Sam insisted, running his hands down his body to settled on his cock, "you know _you_ want it," he whispered, licking his lips and smiling slightly. He watched his brother's face, could tell that Dean was _just_ as turned on as he was. _Wanted_ it just as much.

Dean pursed his lips for a moment before nodding and pulling his fingers back. "Fuckin' do," he agreed swiftly and squirted his fingers with lube once more to drag quickly along his cock. God he _really_ wanted this. It didn't matter that they'd done this once more; neither of them could remember one hundred percent so it didn't really count. This was their first official time, how it should be. Dean swallowed as he gripped the base of his cock hard and shoved up Sam's legs, sliding forward to line the crown at the entrance. The moment his hard cock broke the barrier he gasped and nearly fell down onto Sam, instantly sinking a few more centimetres in. "So _tight_ ," he moaned as he sank further in.

Sam's body was on fire; he could barely breathe and he wanted so _much_ more and wasn't even sure if he could live through it. His hips shot up off the bed and he cried out as Dean sank balls deep into him, their bodies crashing together. "Yesss," Sam hissed throwing his head back as his hand slapped down on Dean's shoulder. "Fuckin' do it..." his muscles were relaxing into the burn, his body shivering with lust.

"Jesus," Dean gasped, not anticipating the way Sam would rock so eagerly up into him. He didn't need asking twice though. Dean pushed up, sliding out of Sam's body and slowly slipping back in. His eyes fixed greedily on Sam's body, fingers digging into his brother's legs as he moved once more. "So fuckin' _hot_ like this Sammy," he moaned as Sam clenched around him, pulling Dean back in the moment he slid out. Dean quickened his pace, slamming harder and harder each time.

Rocking back into Dean's thrusts was automatic. Sam wanted everything Dean had to give. He wanted to be taken, wanted to be sore later, aching - feeling every move Dean had made. Moaning, his own thoughts ratcheting up his desire even more, Sam writhed on the bed. His motions were liquid, smooth, hands moving faster on his cock, thumbs brushing over the weeping head.

Dean slammed as hard into Sam as he could, hip bones crashing into Sam's ass with enough force to make them begin to ache. Dean vaguely registered the bed squeaking beneath him, drowned out slightly by the combined forces of Dean and Sam's moans. His orgasm curled along his toes, crawling up his legs, and Dean shoved roughly at Sam's legs, pushing his knees further into his chest to get deeper. "Fuck Sam... m'gonna," he gasped as Sam's muscles clenched around him, pulling him closer still as his thrusts reached a blindingly rough pace.

Whimpering, moaning, Sam reached his long arms down to curl his fingers into his brother's firm ass. _Deeper_ , he didn't need to say it. Dean's cock thrust into Sam, hard, fast and Sam could feel the silent heat unwinding within him. His muscles started to tighten, balls aching, fingers worked restlessly on his swollen shaft. When he could feel his orgasm surging up like a wave over him he pushed up off the bed with his arms, curling his fingers around Dean's neck and crashing their mouths together. His lips parted, tongue slipped past his brother's lips and Sam came. Moaning roughly into the kiss, mouth wide and wet, Sam shot thick, milky white over his hands and up his chest.

It didn't really surprise Dean when he came almost instantly in time with Sam. The way his brother's ass clenched around him was enough to bring sparks to his eyes. He moaned into Sam's mouth, hips jerking forward into Sam's body as the pleasure soared through him. Dean had never come so hard in his entire life. He could feel Sam's come seeping into his skin as he worked his hips forward in gentle thrusts, the last of his release spilling out into his brother. When the last of his orgasm had worked its way through him, Dean collapsed hard onto his brother, puffing out quick breaths into his neck. "Sam..." he murmured, lips sliding along the skin.

Sam wrapped his long legs around his brother's trembling body holding him as close as possible. There was a smile on his face, slightly slanted eyes blinking lazily in the half light. "Hot..." he murmured into his brother's hair, turning so he could breath in the warm, earthy smell of Dean. The musky smell of _them_.

"Fuck yes," Dean agreed and sighed heavily as he shifted still inside his brother. He felt a little like he could stay there forever. "Gotta do that again soon," he murmured and sighed as he slipped from Sam's body and rolled them to the side, keeping Sam tight against his body. "So... what's with the lube?"

Laughing softly Sam curled into his brother's body, fitting perfectly everywhere they touched. "You told me... when I was thirteen..." his lips grazed Dean's cheek, "always have some just in case." He shrugged, palm settling over Dean's hip bone, fingers curling gently. "It's not like I _never_ have sex."

Chuckling in return, Dean nodded, "Yeah, that sounds like something I would say." He wet his lips and sighed blissfully. "You know... we outta send Chuck a fruit basket or something. A thank you present." He grinned and let out a sharp bark of laughter, "A male stripper?"

"Oh yeah, dude... that's it." Sam smiled evilly.

Still chuckling at the thought, Dean pushed up to get a rag to clean them both off. When they were both free of Sam's come and settled back on the mattress under the blanket, Dean gathered Sam close once more and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. "Love you Sammy," he murmured, eyes slipping closed.

Sam mumbled something softly that didn't quite manage to become words so he just nuzzled into Dean's neck and sighed. He could tell his brother how much he loved him tomorrow.


End file.
